


Forget the things you don't remember

by Clairianne



Category: Disco Elysium (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Gen, Harry has a bad night, Hopeful Ending, Suicidal Thoughts, and he needs a reminder that he's still alive, but Kim is a good friend, it's sad okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:46:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22758751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clairianne/pseuds/Clairianne
Summary: At least, for a moment longer, you’re part of this universe.
Relationships: Harry Du Bois & Kim Kitsuragi
Comments: 12
Kudos: 48





	Forget the things you don't remember

With a loud creak, you close the door behind you. The balcony greets you with sharp coolness and darkness. The familiarity of the sensation makes your heart ache and your hand reach for your pack of cigarettes.

Did you do this in your previous life? You don’t remember.

For a second, the world around you lights up with a warm, orange flash. Lately, all the things you recognise are in orange.

The railing is cool under your elbows, but you don’t mind. It anchors you, reminding you that you’re still here, alive and breathing.

At least, for a moment longer, you’re part of this universe.

Even at night, Martinaise doesn’t do silence. You can hear the soft beat coming from the Whirling, some distant, drunken shouts and omnipresent, metallic hum of the harbour. Your eyes slowly adjust to the darkness; the outline of the buildings and distant lights of the fishing village are the familiar sights you grown to love.

Inside your mind is loud; as much as you don’t like it, the headache won’t disappear until you solve your problems. 

Your own thoughts terrify you in their familiarity. They’re filled with statements, opinions, and conversations, but every single one of them, abruptly end at the one week mark. Just one week, and then, your recollection is gone.

It’s like you were born as a 44-year-old man with an alcohol problem.

That’s why you’re still here. Still in the Whirling, still in the balcony, still shrouded with the darkness. The only thing you know is here: the outline of the city, the darkness, the cold.

They’re a fact.

The rest of it, just speculation. Words and sentences that hold no meaning for you.

You’ve heard so much about yourself these past days, but they don’t  _ ring a bell  _ or _ strike a note _ . They’re just that: statements of people you  _ should _ know, about the things you  _ should _ remember.

For you, they’re just the story about someone you’ve never known.

They do come back, though, late at night, in the nightmares, laughing and mocking. Until you're a crying mess on the bedroom floor, yearning for something, anything, to just  _ forget _ again. **But it** **_is_ ** **your life, Harry boy. It’s your mess, and maybe you might not want** **_to remember_ ** **forever, but you have to own up to it. That’s the only way!**

**Or is it?** Your hand tightens on the loaded gun in your pocket.

Have you seen the bitter betrayal in Jean’s eyes? It’s your fault, and you don’t even remember him. Did you hear the hatred in Garte’s voice during your first night in the Whirling? You made him hate you, but you don’t remember how.

The question is: if you don’t remember, does that mean it didn’t happen?

She  _ did _ happen, you know that by how the smell of apricots makes you want to vomit and hurt yourself. She, your deliverance and death in one perfectly shaped form. It's haunting, how something so unfamiliar can make your skin crawl, in a bad way. But despite that, you don’t remember who she is.

So how can you yearn for something  _ so badly  _ when you have no recollection of it?

It did happen to  _ you _ , even if it was during a different life.

And you’ll have to come back. Your old life is there somewhere, in one of the shabby buildings in Jamrock. What did you leave there? How does your apartment look like? Did you fuck it up like everything else?

_ People expect the old Harry to come back.  _ You have to come back to work, watch the resignation in Jean’s eyes every day and  _ own up _ . Even if you don’t remember what caused that.

But, will you? Do you even want to take that responsibility?

“I don’t know,” you say aloud to the nothingness around you.The night doesn’t have the answer to that.

“Just one more night,” you told Garte a moment ago. He looked at you with something like compassion, but you noticed the sloppily masked pity in it. He's visibly distracted by the young girl sitting by the bar, but you didn't comment. He gave your key without a word, but you felt his gaze on you as you made your way up the stairs.

_ Just one more night _ , you say yourself, but your hands start to tremble. Your heart constricts painfully. A burning pain sears through your palm, and you realize that the cigarette that you've been holding has already burned through --- without you taking a single drag from it.

**Hey, Harry,** The Voice, the one that wakes you up every evening, hisses inside your head. It's loud and you despise it.  **What if you don’t have to come back to the life you already wanted to leave behind, before you lost your memories? Maybe it’s time to leave that life… Forever.**

Your hand involuntarily finds the gun handle. 

**No more pressure to be anything, Harry boy. Just one *click* and all of it is gone** .  **You’ve thought about it so much. Every hour. Every day.**

**You have finished your part here. It’s time.**

Unconsciously, you nod. Just one more cigarette and you're done.

_ Miles away, in Precinct 41, Judith Minot finishes writing her statement. She looks at her satellite officer, Jean Vicquemare, trying to write his without using too many profanities.  _

_ Her face is tight with worry. _

_ "Do you think it was a good idea to leave Lt. Duble Yefreitor Du Bois alone tonight?" she asks.  _

_ Jean winces. "He's going to be alright. Nothing will kill that bastard," he practically spits the words, looking at the files in front of him. She still can hear the unmistakable bitterness in it. _

_ Judith bites her lip. She has enough respect for her commanding officer not point out the falsity of his statement. _

Somewhere, there is a loud roar. It wakes the seagulls sleeping close you up.

Your eyes burn. Your wounded leg screams every time you move.Your thin jacket does nothing against the cold shiver that runs down your spine.

**All of this suffering could end, too.**

You stay on the balcony for so long that it’s almost silent outside. Everyone’s already gone to sleep, but not you.

**Never you, Harry. Sleep is for good people.**

You feel cold and alone.

But then, the silence is broken by the familiar roar of a Kineema. You spot the vehicle as it stps in front of the Whirling. You see Lt. Kim Kitsuragi exit the Kineema with deft professionalism.

He glances over you, nods, and enters the cafeteria.

**What is he doing here? He shouldn’t be here!** The Voice is quieter now. Budding hope fills your mind.

_ Kim is here _ .

Suddenly the door opens and you turn around. Kim looks like how he did few hours before, when you parted ways, but something is different about him . He’s more relaxed than the last time you saw him. The lights are bouncing off his glasses, hiding his eyes.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, and even to your own ears, your voice sounds tight and desperate. 

He stands next to you, close enough for your arms to touch.

“I wanted to check on you,” he says, like it’s normal to be worried about you. “I got the impression earlier that you shouldn’t be left alone.” 

You feel sick thinking he had to change plans because he felt responsible for you, but say nothing.

Silently, Kim pulls out a box of cigarettes and offers you a stick. You want to take it, but your hands tremble. It’s impossible he didn’t see that. You feel ashamed.

Without missing a beat, Kim pulls out a cigarette and puts it between his lips, lighting it with swift motion. When it’s lit, he passes it over to you.

You can’t look away from his beautiful, elegant fingers. You feel strangely warm.

There is silence between you, but your mind is loud enough. Your thoughts are muddled, and you can’t focus on any of them. The warm touch of Kim’s arm against yours is the only thing keeping you in the moment.

“How do you feel?” he finally asks. You don’t want to answer that, fearing what would come out of your mouth. Looking at him, you notice how warm and inviting his eyes are. He’s not judging. He’s just here, because he cares.

“I’m…” 

**Don’t say anything. You’ve** **made enough of a mess with your words. Don’t worry him more. Don’t show him** **how weak you are.**

Suddenly you feel a warm hand on your arm. He squeezes it lightly, reassuringly.

“I’m scared,” you finally admit. It sounds like a plea and a cry for help just the same. The tightness around your throat loosens a little.

Kim’s hand lands on your arm.

“It’s okay to be scared, Harry,” his voice is tender and quiet.

Without being aware of it, you grip the cold, cold railing. For a second, you forget about the cigarette in your mouth; with deep sight, it slips from between your lips, becoming one with the darkness. Seems like you weren’t meant to smoke that last one cigarette.

His hand on your arm, grounding you. It’s only now that you realize how touch starved you are now.

When you look at him again, your eyes are blurry.

**You’re crying, Harry boy.**

Overcome with emotions, your head falls on Kim’s arm, and he doesn’t mind. He draws you closer, his arms looping around your neck. You embrace his form sloppily, and when the fact that you’re hugging him finally kicks in, your body starts to tremble.

He just stands there, stroking the hair on the nape of your neck while hugging you back. 

At that moment, you realise that Kim’s the only person who has accepted you, even without knowing your past. He's only heard about your past from what other people have said about you.He is here, because he doesn’t care about what he has heard, or believes that you can be more than what others have said, or decides you can be more than that.

You feel a wave of affection and gratitude wash over you.

When you eventually stop crying, you stay in Kim’s arms a little longer. He smells nice, like lemon, cologne, and cold wind. When you finally pull away, he’s smiling lightly, with understanding. You must look even more like disaster, but he doesn’t seem to mind. You smile back, but it’s teary.

Your mind is oddly calm. For once, you cannot hear any voices in your head.

“Are you feeling better?” Kim asks. You nod. “Good, I’m glad.” he smiles lightly.

“I don’t feel like sleeping anytime soon,” you admit after a while.

“Actually, I remember you owe me a rematch in Suzerainty,” he says, but in his eyes, you see that what he really means is  _ I won’t leave you alone in this _ .

For the first time in what seems like forever, you smile.

He drags you to your room without hesitation. The small smile on his face and his steady presence anchors you to Elysium, at least for today.

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank my beta, [luminality](https://archiveofourown.org/users/luminality), for making my story possible to read. Also want to thank entire Disco(rd) for helping me to believe in myself enough to write something so important. Hope you enjoy!


End file.
